


Smoke Signals

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-12
Updated: 2012-07-12
Packaged: 2017-11-09 19:42:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles got the weed from his dad. No, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke Signals

**Author's Note:**

> Written for and betaed by my dearest darling Gabriel, who nearly died as I typed this silliness out to her over MSN. Arguably both Stiles and Derek are out of character but oh well. Have fun with some shotgunning fic. I wrote this loosely based off of my own extensive experiences with marijuana and that one time I rolled a joint and it was terrible but we smoked it anyway. Too bad I didn't have a Derek of my own to help me out.
> 
> Any remaining mistakes are mine, feel free to point them out, mock me, etc.

Stiles got the weed from his dad. No, really. He'd found some idiot kid trying to sell it but instead of getting him in trouble, Papa Stilinski gave the kid a verbal beating, confiscated the weed… and promptly forgot about it. Stiles found it later as he was putting together a load of laundry. He'd taken over the chore almost as soon as his mother had passed, his father not being able to anything more than go through the motions of lviing. It wasn't very much and Stiles had no idea about the quality but it was there and it was free.

 

He hid it in the shoebox under his bed, where his dad never ventured, for a week until he was sure that it had gone missing unnoticed. And then he waited another week, trying to figure out who he could ask about it, or what the hell he should even do with it. Stiles eventually made his way to Wikipedia and finally YouTube. It seemed the easiest way for him to partake would involve rolling it. Stiles was not about to go out and find a pipe somewhere, it would be physical evidence of a pot habit he most certainly did not have.

 

The night he decided to indulge, his father was out. He had a window open, just in case, the small baggie and some ancient rolling papers he'd filched from his dad laid out on his desk. He stared at them for ten minutes, as if at any moment his father would bust in, DEA in tow and his life would be over, he'd be in prison and he'd never see any of his friends again. Sighing, Stiles went for it and began to roll a joint. It wasn't nearly as elegant or neat as the ones he'd seen in the video. It was kind of hideous, actually, lumpy and bent. But he'd rolled it. He was almost proud of himself. His hands were shaking slightly as he popped it between his lips. Just like smoking a cigarette, right? Stiles had no idea, he'd never touched the stuff, but it seemed easy enough. He lit the end not in his mouth and attempted to inhale. It didn't work and Stiles was pretty sure he was about to have an asthma attack from coughing so much.

 

"What are you doing?"

 

The voice came suddenly when the coughing fit ended, and Stiles fell out of his chair. It was Derek. Derek was sitting in his damn open window, staring at Stiles as if he could read his mind.

 

"Nothing, absolutely nothing, just minding my own business, not climbing in other people's windows at weird hours, scaring them shitless." He stood, attempting to act casual. The joint had made it's way onto the floor, out of Derek's sight, and Stiles hoped fervently he'd just get bored and leave. Too bad for Stiles, though, Derek was a werewolf. Derek climbed into his room, an eyebrow cocked. He sniffed, as if trying to get a reading on the smells in the air. 'Shit. Shit shit shit,' was the only thought running through Stiles' head. "You can stop lying, you know," Derek said. "I know you were doing something… you were smoking pot, weren't you?" An almost amused look crossed his face. "And how did it go?"

 

Stiles put on his best poker face. Okay. He could do this. Just tell Derek no, he'll leave, and he could go back to being a terrible stoner in peace. Or at least that was what Stiles hoped he would say. What ended up coming out of his mouth was, "Yes, but it sucked, I did all this research and I can't even role a joint properly and then when I did smoke it, I'm pretty sure I coughed up a lung so if you happen to see one lying around let me know because I'd like it back."

 

Derek closed his eyes, obviously trying not to laugh. Stiles glared at him, feeling stupid after his confession. "Look, just make your snarky comments and go, okay?" Derek just gave him a look before rolling his eyes. "Just show me what you've got and go sit down. I'll do it." Stiles blinked. "What?" "Stiles…" "Going, going. And it's… under my desk. I think." Derek crouched and scooped up the sad little joint, letting out a snort.

 

"It was my first time, okay!" Stiles groused. "I can tell." Derek settled himself at Stiles' desk and proceeded to take apart Stiles' handiwork with deft fingers. Stiles wanted to object, but then Derek started rolling another one. Well then. The end result was much better than what Stiles had managed, and he had to admit he was impressed. Derek stood and shed his jacket, hanging it over the back of Stiles' chair before plucking up the newly fashioned joint and heading towards Stiles' bed. Stiles had situated himself near the wall, Derek opting to sit near the foot. Stiles had been watching Derek work but now that the werewolf was on his bed, he had to ask, "What are you doing."

 

Derek kicked off his shoes before sitting cross-legged on top of Stiles' comforter. He arched a brow. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm getting comfortable. You're welcome, by the way. Are you this rude to all your guests?" It was Stiles' turn to roll his eyes. "No, only the ones who invite themselves in and then get on my bed without asking."

 

"What about the ones who roll you a proper joint and show you how to smoke?" Stiles didn't quite know how to respond to that so he just continued to glare. Derek stuck the joint in his mouth before holding his hand out. Stiles slapped the lighter into his palm. "How do you even know how to do this anyway?"

 

Derek smirked, "Stiles, I'm 24 and live in a house by myself in the woods. I don't spend all my time brooding or yelling at Scott." 12:31 Stiles thought about that for a second. Huh. "Oh. Well that makes sense." Derek only 'hmmed' in response as he lifted the lighter to the end of the joint, inhaling the strong smelling smoke into his lungs with practiced ease. He held it for a second before exhaling just as smoothly, clearly not perturbed at all. "Not bad. I've had better, but you really can't complain about free weed." Stiles stared, Derek was visibly relaxing, the high already hitting him. It was like watching a coil unwind. 

 

"Do you want to try again?" Stiles looked hesitant, his prior experience making him wary, wondering if this time he'd just pass out. Derek huffed out a laugh, "Okay, I have an idea. Don't move." He made his way up to where Stiles was sitting, his back leaned against the wall. Derek settled next to Stiles' knees and only Derek's command of 'don't move' was keeping him in place. "Open your mouth and empty your lungs." Stiles frowned, "What, why?" Derek rolled his eyes again, though less out of annoyance and more impatience. "Just do it, okay?"

 

"Fine, fine, I'll do it. But then what?"

 

"Then you inhale at the right moment, and hold it. Most importantly though, you have to stay still, got it?"

 

Stiles didn't appreciate the tone of Derek's words but he did anyway, he opened his mouth slightly and exhaled. Meanwhile Derek was lighting up again and taking a hit, this one even larger than the one before. He arched a brow, somehow able to silently ask Stiles if he was ready. Stiles nodded in assent.

 

And then suddenly Derek was kissing him, one hand on the back of his neck, holding him in place. Stiles inhaled, the right moment presenting itself, and he felt and tasted the acrid smoke filling his mouth and lungs. When Derek was finished he broke the kiss, but backed away only slightly. Stiles remembered Derek told him to hold it and so he did as best he could but it was only for a moment until he was exhaling it back out again, right in Derek's face.

 

Stiles felt… nice. That was a word for it. His limbs felt heavy from oxygen deprivation, but it wasn't unpleasant. He stared at Derek who seemed to be waiting for some sort of response. Stiles blinked, a goofy smile spreading across his face. "Can… can we do that again?" Derek only returned the smile and leaned back in again.


End file.
